With Mars discovery has from the start waited on apparent disk. To this end every optical advance has contributed from the time of Galileo’s opera-glass to the present day. For apparent distance stands determined by the size of the eye. But although it is the telescopic eye that has increased, not the distance that has diminished, the effect has been kin to being carried nearer the planet and so to a scanning of its disk with constantly increasing particularity. Mankind has to all intents and purposes been journeying Marsward through the years. Any historic account of the planet, therefore, becomes a chronicle of seeming bodily approach.

Perhaps no vivider way of making this evident and at the same time no better preface to the present work could be devised than by putting before the eye in orderly succession the maps made of Mars by the leading areographers of their day, since the planet first began to be charted sixty-five years ago. The procedure is as much as possible like standing at the telescope and seeing the phenomena steadily disclose.

Seen thus in order the facts speak for themselves. They show that from first to last no doubt concerning what was seen existed in the minds of those competent to judge by systematic study of the planet at first hand, and furthermore, from their mutual corroboration, that this confidence was well placed. For, far from there being any conflict of authorities in the case, those entitled to an opinion in the matter prove singularly at one.

Beginning with Maedler in 1840 the gallery of such portraitures of the planet comprises those by Kaiser, Green and Schiaparelli, continued since Schiaparelli’s time by the earlier ones of the present writer. To this list has been added one by Flammarion, which though not solely from his own work gives so just a representation of what was known at the date, 1876, as to merit inclusion. The remarkable drawings of Dawes and the excellent ones of Lockyer in 1862-1864 were never combined into maps by the observers, and though the former’s were so synthesized by Proctor in 1867, the result was conformed to what Proctor thought ought to be and so is not really a transcript of the drawings themselves.

Each of the maps presented marked in its day the point areography had reached; and each tells its own story better than any amount of text. They are all made upon Mercator’s projection and omit in consequence the circumpolar regions. The later ones give, too, only so much of the surface as was shown at the opposition they record, for Mars, being tipped now one way, now another, regards the earth differently according to its orbital position. In comparing them, therefore, the equator must be taken for medial line. Mercator’s projection has been the customary one for portraying Mars except for such oppositions as chiefly disclose the arctic pole. And this, too, with a certain poetic fitness. For it comes by right of priority to delineation of a new world; seeing that Mercator was the first to represent in a map the mundane new world in its entirety, by the rather important addition of North America to the southern continent already known, and to give the whole the title America with ‘Ame’ at the top of the map and ‘rica’ at the bottom.

In looking at the maps it is to be remembered that they are what we should call upside down, south standing at the top and north at the bottom. Inverted they show because this is the way the telescopic observer always sees the planet. The disk would seem unnatural to astronomers were it duly righted. Just the same do men in the southern hemisphere look at our own Earth topsy-turvy according to our view, the Sun being to the north of them and the cold to the south. Certain landmarks distinguishable in all the maps may serve for specific introduction. The V-shaped marking on the equator pointing to the north is the Syrtis Major, the first marking ever made out upon the planet and drawn by the great Huyghens in 1659. The isolated oval patch in latitude 26° south is the Solis Lacus, the pupil of the eye of Mars; while the forked bay on the equator, discovered by Dawes, is the Sabaeus Sinus, the dividing tongue of which, the Fastigium Aryn, has been taken for the origin of longitudes on Mars.

Twelve maps go to make the series. They are as follows:—

MakerDate
[I.]Map of Beer and Maedler1840
[II.]Map of Kaiser1864
[III.]Map of Flammarion (Résumé)1876
[IV.]Map of Green1877
[V.]Map of Schiaparelli1877
[VI.]Map of Schiaparelli1879
[VII.]Map of Schiaparelli1881
[VIII.]Map of Schiaparelli1884
[IX.]Map of Lowell1894
[X.]Map of Lowell1896
[XI.]Map of Lowell1901
[XII.]Map of Lowell1905

If these maps be carefully compared they will be found quite remarkably confirmatory each of its predecessor. To no one will their inter-resemblance seem more salient than to draughtsmen themselves. For none know better how surprisingly, even when two men have the same thing under their very noses to copy, their two versions will differ. Judgment of position and of relative size is one cause of variation; focusing of the attention on different details another. What slight discrepancies affect the maps are traceable to these two human imperfections. Maps [IV] and [V] make a case in point: it was to his new-found canals that Schiaparelli gave heed to the neglect of a due toning of his map; while Green, less keen-eyed but more artistic, missed the delicate canaliform detail to make a speaking portraiture of the whole.

Amid the remarkable continuity of progression here shown, in which each map will be seen to be at once a review and an advance, we may, nevertheless, distinguish three stages in the perception of the phenomena. Thus we may mark:—